


Dashed Hopes

by lettalady



Series: Tom & the tub [4]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Gen, Heartbreak, Loss, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2647544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettalady/pseuds/lettalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom's dashed hopes of becoming a father. </p>
<p>Another in the Tom & the tub series [because I evidently have a fixation and can't put him in any other damned room in the house].</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dashed Hopes

When she’d cried out in pain he’d panicked. It wasn’t time yet. They still had classes to complete. The crib wasn’t assembled yet. There were still so many things to be done. And names – they still hadn’t narrowed down the list of names for little baby Hiddles. He was excited and nervous, giddy and worried all at once. Two would soon become three! 

Internally he’d been a basket case – but on the outside he’d kept his calm – for her. She’d been squeezing his hand so hard the entire way to the hospital that he’d needed to knead feeling back into them after the doctors had taken her beyond his reach. He’d paced the waiting room impatiently, waiting for any sort of news. False alarm mate, see you in a month or so. Premature arrival – come say hello to your baby boy. Any news, any updates, anything to pass the time. Seconds crept past at an agonizing pace – it seemed that time had forgotten the rules. Time had become his enemy. 

Then the doctor had finally come to retrieve him and the world slowed to stopping. 

He hardly remembered driving home. She didn’t want to get back in bed so he’d set her up on the couch and cradled her as she sobbed. Exhausted as she was it hadn’t been long until she’d cried herself to sleep. He held it together as he brushed a few stray hairs from her tearstained face. After prying himself loose resettling her on the sofa he quietly walked down the hall and into the bathroom. Only after the door was secured did he let full weight of the moment wash over him. 

The baby. They’d lost the baby. 

It felt like his grip on the porcelain fixtures was the only thing keeping him upright. In the end his knees had buckled, sending him to the floor. Sitting there on the cold tile, leaning back against the tub, grief washed over him in waves. Just about the time he found himself able to breathe again another wave would crash down. 

The thing that had broken the cycle was her voice, calling out his name. She’d woken to find him missing. He knew he looked a complete wreck, but she wouldn’t care. They would support each other through this. They would decide together if they wanted to try again - or if they would go another route. 

Bleary eyed, he picked himself up, wiped the tears from his eyes and called out to her, “Coming, darling. I’m here.”


End file.
